


I'm Trying To Shout But No Sound Comes Out

by the_sun_is_a_deadly_laser



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Canon Does Not Spark Joy So Here I Am, Comfort/Angst, Denial, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak is So Done, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Richie Tozier Has a Boyfriend, Richie Tozier Has a Cat, Richie Tozier is a Mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:34:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24873145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_sun_is_a_deadly_laser/pseuds/the_sun_is_a_deadly_laser
Summary: No one ever really dies in Derry.Eddie knows that for a fact. Time doesn't work the same, either. He wakes up in the sewers, alone and covered in filth and surrounded by fucking gray water.But what takes him a little over a day in Derry takes him three years in the real world. Once he leaves the little bubble of Derry, he comes to realize that nothing is like he thought it was. Instead, Richie has a boyfriend, Bev and Ben are married, Bill makes good endings for his books, and Mike is living it up in Florida.The fuck?
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 72





	I'm Trying To Shout But No Sound Comes Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie wakes up and thinks his friends are dead until he learns that they're not. He drives out of Maine and things start to fall into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sup fuckers 
> 
> it has occurred to me that, after chapter two, i only had the first two bits planned out and I have no idea what the hell I'm supposed to do now

Eddie groaned. It smelled so fucking bad. 

Wait. 

Where was he? He opened his eyes and looked around. Then he screamed in disgust. Why was he down in the sewers?! Oh, right. Pennywise. Speaking of Pennywise, where was he? Where were his friends? 

They were up killing It. That's what Richie said they were doing while Eddie was trying to summon up the courage to tell him how he felt. Wait. He slapped his hand over his stomach. There was nothing there. No stab wound, nothing. 

"What the hell?" 

He pushed himself up and had to lean against the dirty stone wall as his vision went black around the edges. 

"Guys!" No response. "Hello?" 

Eddie scrambled up the sloped hill that he was thrown down. It leveled out faster than he thought it would and he fell flat on his face. 

"Oh, ew, _ew,_ ew, _ew!"_

He wiped his face and tried to spit out what got in his mouth. 

"Fucking _gross!"_

He looked up. There was no one there. He blinked. 

"Guys?" 

Getting up, he looked around. The entire place was destroyed. Like, everything had caved in on itself. What if, because he was down in that cave or whatever, he was protected from the crash? What if his friends were crushed? 

"GUYS? BEV? _RICHIE!_ PLEASE, PLEASE ANSWER ME! BILL! MIKE! BEN!"

He was panicking as he ran around, lifting what he could and looking for any body parts or just straight up bodies. A ray of light hit him in the face and he fell off of a rock because of it. He squinted and looked up. He could climb and get out. 

He looked around one last time, his own world crashing in around him as he realized that his friends were dead. He dropped to his knees and sobbed into his hand. Richie was dead and Eddie hadn't been able to work up the balls to tell him how he had felt for the past twenty-nine years. Bill, his first crush, was gone, Stan was already dead, Mike, the one who sacrificed his entire life for the rest of them to have lives was gone, Ben and Bev, basically star-crossed lovers, were dead, too. 

Eddie was the only one who survived. He wiped his tears. 

"Richie," he sobbed quietly, "I'm so sorry. I love you." 

He had never said it out loud before. He screamed in agony and slammed his fist against the hard ground. 

"YOU HEAR ME? I FUCKING _LOVE_ YOU, YOU IDIOT! SO COME BACK! MAKE FUN OF ME! COME _BACK!"_

His voice cracked and he collapsed in on himself, heaving as he tried to breathe. 

"Call me Eds," he croaked. "Just one more time. I don't hate it, Richie. I love it. Come back, _please."_

He was down there for hours, crying for each and every one of his lost friends. He'd never felt so alone. But the light was waning and he needed to escape before nightfall. So he stood, kissed his disgusting hand, and pressed it against the rock. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered. 

And then he climbed up and out of that hellhole. 

Eddie pushed himself up and shoved aside the rubble of the Neilbolt house. He coughed because of the dust and stood up on the shambles. The wind blew through his hair and made his jacket ruffle. He was about to start crying again and took in a hard breath. He exhaled and moved forward. It took him a while to get out of the wreckage.

He stepped onto the lawn and looked back at his friend's mass grave. His composure crumpled. 

"I'm sorry," he gasped. 

He turned and walked away, sobbing into his hand. It took him a long time to reach the townhouse. When he opened the door, the clerk, who he had never seen there before, yelped. 

"The fuck happened to you?" he asked. 

"I have no idea," said Eddie dryly. 

"The house collapse?" the clerk asked sympathetically. Eddie nodded. Sure. Why the hell not. "Yeah, the other people who were in it looked just as bad as you." 

Eddie stopped with his hand on the railing. He whipped around. "Who else?" 

"Oh. The other five people who were there?" 

He ran up to the desk, making the clerk jump back. "Who were they?" 

"Uh..." 

_"Who were they?"_

The clerk looked at the books. "Uh, like, Bill and Beverly, Ben, and Richie?" 

Eddie laughed incredulously. "They're alive?" 

"Yeah? You just missed them, too. They all left a couple of hours ago." 

He clapped. "Oh my god!" he yelled. "They're alive! Wait, why did they leave me down there?" 

The clerk shrugged in fear, not having a clue what he was talking about. It didn't matter. He slammed his hands down on the counter. 

"I need to call them." 

"Uh, don't you have their numbers...?" 

Did he? He checked his pocket and pulled out a completely shattered phone. "Uh, I did..." That was a lie, but whatever. "Let me call Richie."

The clerk stepped back and Eddie saw him wrinkle his nose at how he smelled. He checked the logbook and dialed Richie's number into the phone. It rang for a long time. Richie didn't answer. A little hurt, Eddie called Bill. Nothing. Ben. Nada. Bev. AWOL. Finally, Mike. He picked up with a hesitant, 

"Hello?" 

"Mike! Oh, thank fuck! Where are you?" 

Mike's voice shook as he asked, "Eddie?" 

"Yeah. Where are you guys? Why did you leave me down there?" 

"Fuck you," he spat. Eddie blinked. 

"What?" 

"Fuck you," he said again. And then he hung up. 

The dial tone was deafening in Eddie's ear. He put down the phone and wordlessly went up to his room to take a shower. 

Why was no one answering him? And why did Mike say that to him? What did he do? 

He washed his grimy body with his prescribed body wash and attempted to wash all the shit out of his hair. When he got out, he was red as a lobster. But he looked clean and that was what he was focusing on, not Mike's outburst. He didn't have a scar from being impaled. Not even where Bowers stabbed him in the cheek. He frowned at his reflection. 

He brushed his teeth and got into his silk pajamas and sat on his bed. He got back up and went downstairs. The clerk was gone, so he checked the logbook again and called Richie. Again, he didn't answer. So Eddie left a message. 

"Hey, Rich. It's Eddie. I just- I got out of the sewers. Why did- why did you leave me down there? Are you guys okay? And why is Mike so angry at me? Please, call me back. I mean- this is the hotel phone. I'm leaving tomorrow. But... yeah, if you could be back with me, that would be... great." He swallowed. "And, uh, Richie... I love you. That's why I was trying to say before I... passed out? But. Yeah. I love you, okay?" He waited before remembering that this was a voicemail. "So yeah. Bye. Sorry." 

He put the phone back in the holder and looked at it for a while, hoping that it would ring. 

But it didn't. 

So, after about an hour, he decided he'd check the messages in the morning and went up to bed. He was exhausted.

\---

Eddie woke up to really bad morning breath and a growling stomach. 

He went to the bathroom, peed, brushed his teeth and hair, changed into a new pair of clothes, swore to himself that he'd burn the ones that he wore to the sewer, and looked around his room after he packed his bag. 

He was stabbed by Henry Bowers in that bathroom. He shuttered. Eddie left the room as quickly as possible and vowed to never, ever, come back. 

Again, no one was at the front desk. He grabbed himself a shitty bagel from the buffet and went over to check the messages. There was nothing from any of his friends. He grabbed a pen and a sticky note. He wrote down all their numbers and went on his way, happy to be leaving that fucking town. 

Getting into his car, he sighed, put the bagel in his mouth, and started the engine. And he drove off, each mile feeling like a pound of weight off his chest. His friends were alive and he was sure there was a good reason as to why he was left down there and Pennywise was dead. 

Everything was pretty okay, all things considered. 

But why did Mike hate him? Why did none of them pick up? Why didn't Richie listen to his voicemail and call him back? 

_Now Leaving Derry! Come Back Soon!_

Yeah, right. Never a-fucking-gain. 

He couldn't wait to get out of Maine altogether. But he had to go back home, to New York, to Myra. He sighed. 

No, Eddie decided. He was going to get a divorce. He was gay. It felt weird in his chest to think but he knew it was true. 

He left the state of Maine, drove through Vermont and New Hampshire, and entered the state of New York feeling like he was really going to turn his life around and be happy. Walking into his apartment building and nodding at his, for some reason, shocked doorman, the feeling was more anxiety than anything, but he was determined. 

He was going to get out of this toxic relationship and go to L.A. and be a happy couple with Richie Tozier if he felt the same. 

Eddie took a steeling breath outside of his door before putting the keys into the lock and opening it. 

He was met with a scream from his wife. 

"WHAT?" He looked around in a panic. Was something wrong? "What's wrong?" 

She pointed at him and screamed some more. He stopped and looked at her. Held out his hands. Was she screaming at him? He raised his eyebrows. 

"Eddie!" she yelled. 

"What's wrong?" 

"You- you're here!" 

He stared at her before nodding slowly. "Yeah..." 

"You're alive!" 

"Yeah..." 

"How?!" 

He blinked. "Myra, what the fuck are you talking about? I've only been gone, like, a week." 

She frowned at him. "Don't use that language with me! And no, you've been gone for three years!" 

Eddie blanked. "Uh," he laughed, "what? No." 

"You have!" 

She threw herself at him, sobbing. He caught her, immensely confused. 

"Myra, what do you mean? I'm right here, I've only been gone for a week!" 

"No!" she wailed. "You left me!" 

_Not yet I haven't,_ he thought to himself.

Eddie sighed and pushed her away. Her mascara was running down her face and her cheeks were blotchy. "Stop being so dramatic. Can I borrow your phone?"

She seemed to be in shock as he walked away from her and picked up her phone. He dialed in Bev's number because it was first on his list. She picked up with a pleasant, 

"This is Bev." 

"Bev," he sighed in relief. "Oh, thank god you're okay. It's Eddie." 

She was silent. 

"...Bev?" 

"How are you alive?" she whispered. "You- you were stabbed straight through. We- we _watched_ you _die."_

"No," he said in confusion, "I'm fine. Why did you leave me down there?" 

"You- you were dead and the house was collapsing. We couldn't get you out in time." 

He was quiet and nodded slowly. "Okay." 

"It's been three years," she sobbed. Eddie's blood ran cold. Myra was telling the truth. He looked back at her. She was staring at him, still crying. 

"Are you serious?" he hissed. 

"Yes," Bev cried. 

"Bev, what's wrong?" Eddie heard. He frowned. Was that Ben? 

"Ben?" 

"Ben, it's Eddie!" wailed Bev. "He's alive!" 

"Eddie?!" 

"Have I really been gone for three years?!" 

"Yes!" 

Eddie rubbed his face. He had been dead for three years. "Wait. Why are you two- wait, are you two together?" 

There was a pause. "Yeah," sniffed Bev. "We got married eight months ago." 

"Holy shit, that's great!" he yelled. "Could've invited me, though," he joked. Two feeble laughs came through the line. 

"Eddie... what _happened?"_

"I..." He had no idea. "I don't know. I woke up and climbed out. I called you from the townhouse and-" 

"That was _you?!"_

"Yeah." 

It sounded like they both facepalmed. "Shit, we ignored it!" 

Eddie perked up. "Is that why Mike cussed me out? Just because the call was from Derry?" 

"Yeah!" Ben exclaimed. "We all talked about it yesterday." 

He had a thought. "If I'm alive- does that mean that Stan's alive, too?" 

The silence from the other end answered his question. He nodded. 

"Okay," he whispered. "Look, could I have Richie's address? I'm going to go to L.A." 

"What?" Myra squawked. "No, you're not!" 

He glared at her. "I want a divorce." 

"NO!" 

"Go Eddie," Ben congragulated meekly. Bev recited Richie's address back to him and he wrote it down on his arm. 

"But you should tell him you're coming. Eddie... he- he's- your death was hardest on him," Bev sighed. 

"Okay. I- I'll get a new phone and I'll call you, okay?"

"Are- are you going to call everyone else?" asked Ben. 

"Later. I have things to do." 

"Okay. I love you, Eddie," Bev croaked. "I'm so happy you're back." 

"Me too," he breathed. 

"Can- can we meet you in L.A.?" Ben asked. 

Eddie was thrilled at the idea. "Absolutely! Bye, guys." 

"Bye." 

He hung up and he was sure that Ben and Bev were crying and hugging. He turned to Myra. 

"If I've been gone three years, that means you've been living off my life insurance," he stated. He was damn good at his job. His life insurance was five million dollars. "I just need enough for a new phone, plane ticket, and a couple thousand for living for the next few weeks." 

Myra stared at him blankly. "We're not getting a divorce," she said shakily. 

"If I've really been gone for three years," he said firmly, "I'm legally dead, which means that you're a widow. Now give me the money or I'll call the cops and sue you for making it look like your husband died and taking the insurance." 

Her eyes were wide as she wrote him a check for 50,000 dollars. He walked to the door and opened it.

"We'll get this figured out later," he promised. He walked out. 

It was like a breath of fresh air. He was out. 

"Fuck yeah," he grinned, pumping his fist. 

His first stop was the bank to cash the check, then the Verizon store. He bought a new phone, texted Richie that he was coming and would see him soon, and then bought a plane ticket. 

His flight took off in three hours and he went to the airport. 

\---

When Eddie landed, he got out and ran to catch a cab. He didn't have any luggage or anything. 

"Taxi!" he called, raising his hand. A car stopped right away and he got in. He told her Richie's address and they were off. 

It took about thirty minutes to get there, each second making Eddie more and more anxious. He paid as quickly as he could and got out. There was a doorman.

"Hey, I'm a friend of Richie's," he said. "Can I go in?"

The doorman scoffed. "Right. You're just a fan. Fuck off."

Eddie stared at him. "He was born in Derry, Maine," he deadpanned. "We went to the same school and were best friends growing up. He has a tendency to throw up when he's stressed. I gave him his name, Trashmouth, because he ate trash in Miss. Kaywood's third-grade class. He failed algebra in ninth grade and accidentally took AP US history, which destroyed his GPA. Somehow he went to college. He's worn those dumb fucking glasses since he was four years old. He-" 

"Okay, okay," the doorman snapped. "Go in." 

Eddie smiled condescendingly. _"Thank_ you." 

He walked in and checked his notes. Penthouse. Of course. He got in the elevator and pressed the top button. The entire ride up, he was vibrating in place. The doors finally, _finally_ opened and he ran to 9C and pounded at the door until it opened up. 

It was Richie, looking pissed off until he saw who it was. He stared at Eddie with an open mouth. Eddie tried for a smile. 

"Hey, Richie." 

Richie threw up all over him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you're liking it so far


End file.
